


Cracks In The Concrete

by Salmon_Pink



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Danger, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 08:58:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4515813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salmon_Pink/pseuds/Salmon_Pink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's like freefall without a landing, a rush of air and adrenaline that steals Selina's breath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cracks In The Concrete

**Author's Note:**

> Set before _Hush_. Written for [Kink Bingo](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org), prompt "danger".

The East End of Gotham is a jumble of mismatched, dirty buildings, all different heights and styles. Strewn together like piles of garbage, no rhyme or reason. Looking unstable and unreasonable, like removing just one brick could bring the whole lot of them tumbling down.

Selina _adores_ it.

She’s raced across rooftops all over the world, but the grubby and uneven East End remains challenging and frustrating and _exhilarating_.

It’s not like taking that first step off a towering skyscraper, feeling the air rush up to meet her, feeling like she could just fall _forever_. Because falling forever would give her _time_ , using the freefall to search all around her with sharp, quick eyes for the next vantage point she can snag with her whip.

It’s not like the pretty and carefully designed offices and buildings full of yuppies in the nicer parts of other cities. There’s a plan to those, each building intended to compliment its neighbour, roofs the same height, equal distance apart, making a pattern for her to follow.

No, the East End is stubbornly unpredictable. The tenements there may be tall, but they’re surrounded by shorter buildings, the area clogged and suffocating with concrete. She can’t rely on the fall to give her time, no matter how high the building, because there’s always another rough surface waiting to surprise her. She can’t expect the buildings to meet each other neatly, not when they can be pressed awkwardly together or gaping too far apart.

She can’t relax, can’t let her guard down, even for an instant. Needing to be alert, because every leap off any building has the potential to be the last, but in the East End that threat is larger, nearer, _greater_.

For Selina, that threat is what makes life worth living.

The sensation of it, the hammering of her heart and the sweat on her chest when stone crumbles beneath her feet. The jolt of adrenaline when there’s a gun aimed at her head, the surge of fear that turns into something low and dark and _delicious_ within her stomach when she’s hopelessly outnumbered and fighting for her life.

Danger in the air that she can _taste_ , so sweet it makes her breath catch.

But as much as Selina adores the East End, she likes to spread her reach further. Using Gotham as her own personal playground, from the shiny marble of the financial district to the stench of the docks, prowling for a different kind of threat but one she desires above all others.

_Him_.

She never knows how each encounter with Batman will begin, never knows how it will end. She never knows if he’ll wrap his arms around her waist or try to slap cuffs around her wrists. Never knows if a chase will end with harsh words and new scars or with his hands all over her, his breath beating fast against her lips.

She can guess, but Selina can never know for sure, and it infuriates her and makes her _crave_ him.

She lets him pin her against the roof, and maybe he’ll scold her, lecture her, or maybe he’ll let her bite his bottom lip, maybe he’ll groan for the slide of her mouth against his.

She flips them over so she can straddle his lap, and maybe he’ll turn it into a true fight, something to leave them both bruised and bloodied, or maybe he’ll growl and arch, rubbing up against her.

She eases down the zipper of her costume, and maybe he’ll catch her wrists, shake his head, or maybe he’ll press his gloved hands inside, cupping her breasts and thumbing her nipples, lips curving upward for the throaty sounds she makes.

And when there are no more ‘maybes’, when Selina knows she _has_ him, she still cannot guess how he’ll touch her. Whether his fingers will push inside, fuck her hard and fast, teeth at her neck as she gasps and moans for it. Whether he’ll grip her hips as she rides him, eyes full of something unidentifiable and overwhelming as he watches her move. Whether he’ll kiss her like she’s his everything, like this could work, like this could be _real_.

Like this could be _love_ , and that’s the greatest threat of all.

That’s the danger that makes Selina run away the fastest, the one that makes her come back every time.

She never knows what he’ll give her, what he might want to take, what he expects and what he wants. Navigating her relationship with Batman is like dashing across the rooftops of the East End blindfolded, terrifying and euphoric at once.

Selina has always been in thrall of danger, slave and master at once, letting the thrill of it throb within her, push her higher. 

But when it comes to him, it’s somehow _more_. 

When it comes to Batman, Selina is _addicted_.


End file.
